A Study in Green
by sadyshea
Summary: Castiel is kind of a know-it-all. But when he accidentally steals a book from the library, 'Green Eyes' is the one to stop him. The problem? While Castiel might know how pretty much everything, he has no idea how to deal with his attraction to a complete stranger (who, of course, turns out to be a friend's older brother). / Au - University Destiel. Human!Cas Librarian!Dean
1. Chapter 1

Castiel is a know-it-all. He's aware of that. In fact, he's quite comfortable with it. Why should he feel shame for being intellectually superior to most everyone who surrounds him?

He's been called a prick for most of his life so now he wears the label like a nametag.

"Nice to meet you, I'm 'pretentious as fuck'."

The good thing about living in the same town for your entire life is that everyone knows your business. They know you. People stop name-calling when it's just a commonly known fact. It took him eighteen years to perfect this image and now it's about to be shattered.

Because Castiel is going to university.

Castiel's going to a university where he knows no one.

His Mom and Dad don't have time to do the stereotypical 'drive across the country' pre-college road trip. He doesn't mind because that just feels way too cliché. He still sort of wishes that one of them could have at least flown with him. He's usually independent but that's because he grew comfortable with everything in his hometown. But they're both Doctors (Mom is a neurosurgeon and Dad is a pediatrician) so he really can't blame them. On top of everything, they're paying for his university. He really has nothing to complain about.

So why does he keep complaining?

The complaining is contained in his head. He keeps the grumbles and mumbles to himself all throughout his goodbyes and his flight. He is picked up on the other side by a bubbly girl named… well, he doesn't bother to remember her name. That's the important aspect to being a know-it-all: you know what information to retain and what information to discard.

That's why Castiel has never been good at keeping friends. Sure, he has friends, but they're mostly online or in his Advanced Placement classes. It never extends to anything outside of the shared interest. Castiel doesn't mind. He's never been one to waste time on small talk.

"Here we are."

The girl essentially jumps out of the car. Castiel is so tuned out that he didn't even realize they arrived at the university's main campus. It's exactly as he saw it in the brochures. The architecture is gorgeously classical, as if it were plucked right out of Dead Poet's Society (The film is one of his guiltiest pleasures, not that he would ever admit to it).

Every building is large and overflowing with history. He can almost feel it in his bones. There are students rushing in every direction- bringing a couch here, carting an order of Chipotle's there. Everyone is doing something, of which Castiel can't get enough. Everyone here has a purpose. They want to be here.

"So, you're in…. Simcoe, if I read your application right." No name babbles. "Why don't we get your stuff over there? I'm amazed you got it all in one suitcase. That must be a new record or something."

"My parents are sending the rest of my stuff over in a U-Haul." Castiel mutters, as if he owes her some sort of explanation.

'The rest' is mostly just books and clothes. He's always been a light packer. He never understood why people needed so many material items. It's all just clutter. Just like unnecessary information, Castiel didn't want to carry any unnecessary weight with him on his new adventure.

She smiles awkwardly at his blunt response, "Cool." She starts toward a building made entirely of stone and stained glass windows. He follows her as he drinks in his new surroundings and stores everything useful, like which way the library was and which tree looked the best to sit under while studying.

No Name bounces up a set of stairs before pushing open a large, oak door. For a spindly thing, she sure is resilient. Castiel stops to study the bronze placard on the wall, dating that the building was over ninety years old.

"Castieeeelllllllllllll." No Name chimes, waving at him frantically.

He frowns at her and her smile falters. "Castiel." He hates when people mispronounce his name, almost more than he hates Sparknotes.

"Oh, like Elle magazine!" She cries out excitedly. "Or Elle Woods!"

Castiel sighs before trundling up the stairs, dragging his bag behind him. He should really pick it up but he's too lazy. His luggage goes bump- bump –bump up the stone steps.

"Welcome to Simcoe!" She opens her arms wide as they enter the lobby of his dorm.

A chandelier hangs from the ceiling. It catches the light through the stained glass and makes it dance through the room. Castiel is not usually one to appreciate such sights but it sweeps the breath right out of his lungs.

"Pretty cool, huh?" No Name nudges him in the ribs, completely ruining the moment. I mean, who nudges people anymore, anyway?

No Name does, of course. She grabs onto his elbow and he flinches. She either does not feel it or chooses to ignore it. She drags him along the left hallway until they reach Room 202.

They pause and she lets his arm go. She fishes a key out of her pocket and slides it into the lock. It has an old fashioned, antique look to it, almost like a skeleton key, from when things as mundane as keys were beautiful. Castiel can't wait to hold it in his own hand.

No Name tumbles inside, throwing the door open. "Welcome to your new home!"

Castiel forces himself not to roll his eyes as he walks slowly into his new living space. It's simple but quaint. Then he sees the second bed. He had almost forgotten about his roommate. He strongly advocated for a single room but first years were never granted that privilege. The mandate said having a roommate encouraged social behavior within an academic environment.

Castiel thinks that's bullshit.

His roommate's things are already in the room. The guy seems cleanly enough. Castiel just hopes his roommate is the type of guy to only use the dorm as a place to sleep and keep his things, not like a home like Castiel will.

"Well, I've got another person to pick up from the airport but here's my number, just in case you have any questions." No Name hands him a card that he knows he'll toss once she leaves the room. "See you at Orientation tomorrow."

She then has the audacity to wink at him on the way out. She disappears around the corner with a swish of- well, he can't even bother to remember the color of her clothing even seconds after she's gone. Castiel wants to take a shower.

Instead he places his bag on the bed and starts to unpack. He's got an itinerary of all the social events happening on campus that he knows he'll ignore. He tacks it up on the wall anyway, just for show.

He's about halfway through settling in when the door burst open as if someone kicked it. Bewildered, Castiel turns and sees a grinning man with long, blond hair standing in the open doorway. Castiel has never understood how guys wear long hair but it seems to work for this one. The young man's eyes have a mischief about them, as if they're dancing with every step he takes toward Castiel. He looks more than comfortable in his skin (something that Castiel has always found intimidating) as he breezes into the room.

"Hi, I'm Gabe." He's smirking. Why the hell is he smirking? "I guess we're roomies, huh? What's your name?"

Castiel shakes his hand reluctantly. "Uh, Castiel." It's sweaty. Castiel pulls his hand away as soon as he can without seeming impolite. He wonders what 'Gabe' thinks of him. Does he already see Castiel as a bookworm? A nerd? Something worse?

But Gabe doesn't give him any indication of judgment. Instead, he falls back on his bed, his blond hair flopping as he makes impact with the pillow. "That's a pretty badass name you got there, Castiel. I wonder if you live up to your badass name."

"I guess so." He offers meekly, sitting down on his own bed. "In my own way."

Gabe chuckles heartily. He even grabs at his sides when he laughs, something that Castiel only thought happens in cartoons or movies. "I love that. Is that, like, your motto or something?"

Castiel has no idea what this guy is talking about. Surprisingly, he doesn't find himself in the severe pain he usually does in one on these situations. Castiel wonders if the mandate might actually be effective, but he squashes that idea quickly and mumbles, "Something like that."

Gabe gives him another smirk before rolling over onto his stomach and kicking his legs alternatively, very reminiscent of an excited teenage girl. Castiel is truly confounded by this behavior. Maybe it will amount for a good case study. "So, Castiel, why did you come to this fine establishment? What do you hope to achieve?"

Now, that is a very good question. Castiel knows important facts from the realm of academia but when it comes to the realm of his own mind or heart everything becomes a bit fuzzy.

It's not that he's confused. It just hasn't become clear yet.

"I'm here to learn." He finally blurts out and earns himself another chuckle from Gabe. He stumbles over his further explanation, "Just 'cause… I, well, already know some stuff…"

"You're very articulate." Gabe sits up and grabs for his cell phone. "I'm a drama major. It took me a while to figure out exactly what I wanted to do but then it just sort of came to me. I tripped my way into the auditions and they loved me!"

Of course he's a theatre person: the constant smiling, the dripping charisma and confidence… Everything that Castiel lacked. "Um, I like Shakespeare."

Gabe is only half-listening, something that Castiel is both thankful for and used to. He relaxes slightly as Gabe studies something on his phone. Castiel turns back to his bag and starts to unload his clothing into a chest of white drawers near his bed. The drawers creak as if they are protesting.  
"Shit, do you only wear cardigans and sweaters?" Gabe muses and suddenly he's only inches from Castiel.

With a deep breath, Castiel swallows his shock. "They're comfortable. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing." Gabe shares and Castiel knows it isn't just 'nothing'.

Castiel turns toward Gabe to defend himself but Gabe has already moved on, holding his phone up right in front of Castiel's face. "Party. Frat party. We're going."

Frowning at Gabe, Castiel stumbles backward a few feet before tripping on the corner of his bed sheet. The mattress breaks his fall. Castiel anticipates the taunting from Gabe but it never comes. Instead, his roommate rushes over and asks, "You okay, man?"

Gabe reaches down to help Castiel back up to his feet. Sometimes Castiel has a difficult time understanding people. Patterns make sense. Equations make sense. Even most soliloquies make sense. People, however, rarely make sense.

"So what do you think about the party?" Gabe wonders, cocking his head to the side.

Castiel feels the blood rushing to his cheeks and to his ears. He does 'flustered' in the worst way possible. "I'm surprised you even want to go…"

"Well, I do have ulterior motives." Gabe admits, raking his fingers through his hair as a devilish grin sprouts on his lips.

"Such as…?" Castiel sits back down on his bed.

"One: sorority girls. Slutty and stupid." Gabe explains and Castiel actually cringes. "But the second is much more important to me: frat guys are the best to fuck with."

Castiel eyes grow wide as he repeats, "Fuck with?"

"Shocking that I'm a theatre major and don't want to have sex with just guys, right?" Gabe clarifies for Castiel. Castiel notes Gabe's use of the word 'just'. "But seriously, frat guys are like a whole new breed of dumbass, especially when they've played a few rounds of beer pong. So, you with me?"

"It's not really my thing." Castiel shrugs. He never had the intention of saying 'yes' to begin with.

Gabe doesn't heckle him. Castiel is surprised but appreciative. "Your loss. I've got something pretty epic planned. I've got to go get some supplies actually. It was cool to meet you, Castiel. See you for dinner!"

Before Castiel could decline the invitation, Gabe's out the door. Castiel lets out a sigh of relief at the solitude. He's so exhausted by their conversation that he tumbles into his bed and before he knows it, he's asleep.

By the time that Castiel wakes up he has two missed calls on his cell phone: one from his Dad and one from his Mom. He doesn't have the heart to muster up fake enthusiasm about his new environment, so he leaves returning their calls for later. He finishes unpacking his things and quickly finds himself bored.

As much as he loves the safety of his room he's getting cabin fever. Gabe still isn't back for dinner and, although the pair did not make any official plans, Castiel figures that it should be dark outside before they settle down for the meal.

He wanders out of his dorm room and locks the door behind him with his new key. He opens Simcoe's large doors and descends down the stone stairs into a big courtyard. He has no destination in mind. His only 'goal' is to waste time and maybe do some exploring. He recalls that the library is somewhere on the eastern side of campus.

Tons of students are outside because of the nice weather. Castiel attempts to avoid eye contact with people. He breezes by people shoving brochures in his face, asking if he would like to join the Greek system, the debate team, or the school council. Extracurriculars just sound like a distraction from the primary reason Castiel is at university: to learn.

When one girl has the audacity to grab at his arm he's furious, but he does not want to waste time or energy on reprimanding her. After about ten minutes of walking through Hell a peaceful sensation sweeps through Castiel..

Half the building is made of stone while the other half must only be about five or ten years old. There is a whole section that is entirely made of glass, as if it were a giant skylight or a greenhouse made for books. Castiel wonders what it would be like to spend a cold yet sunny day inside curled up in a study chair with a good book. It would feel like you were still outside with all of that natural light flooding the space.

"It's pretty wild, huh?"

A dark shadow falls over Castiel as the question is asked. He turns to see a hefty guy with a bit of dopey grin and eyes sparkling with wonder. Castiel considers his eyes must look the same when he is in the library. The stranger has long, brown hair and wears a messenger bag over his shoulder. He is somehow both a man and a child at the same time. Castiel cannot decide if the stranger is a young professor or a freshman, just like Castiel.  
"I don't if I'd use the word wild." Castiel responds, the words spilling out of his mouth. "I would probably use…. Pulchritudinous."

"Um, I'm pretty sure that word is only meant to described people." The Hulk responds with a half-smile. "Not buildings… but I might be wrong."

Castiel wracks his brain for the definition and finds the stranger is right. He's used to pointing out other people's mistakes, not having people point out his. His anxiety builds and instead of saying anything else he employs his favorite tactic: escape.

He flies up the stairs of the library, unsure of where he's going but knowing he has to get away. He steals a look over his shoulder to see that the guy isn't following him. Instead the stranger offers a friendly wave and calls out, "Hope we have some classes together!"

Castiel's cheeks are burning with embarrassment as he enters the library. His anxiety calms as he realizes the true majesty of the building. The number of books leaves him breathless. Comparing the university library to the library in his hometown is like comparing a cornerstone to a Wal-Mart supercenter.

He can just feel the collected knowledge kept within the walls. The shelves nearly reach the ceiling. Castiel wonders if the library keeps every book ever published hidden away in its depths, although he knows how naïve the thought is. It seems as though any question posed ever could be answered in one of the books. Another naïve thought.

Castiel's heart races and he does not know what part of the library to explore first. The bevy of possibility is overwhelming and his excitement causes a headache to take hold. He closes his eyes for a moment, centers himself, and then surges forward. He locates a directory and is in awe of how many categories (and sub-categories) the library contains.

Castiel settles on 'kinesiology' because he has never really delved into the subject. He climbs two flights of stairs and wanders down four hallways before he reaches the section. When he does, a sense of calm flows through him.

He slowly walks down the aisles, trailing his fingertips along the spines of each book. Castiel is not sure what he wants to learn about specifically but even reading the titles has his mind at ease.

This is why he's here. He is not attending university to party or have sex like most of his peers. He's here to seize every leaning opportunity and soak as much knowledge as he can. He doesn't care if that makes him a loner. He's used to that title. He works better alone, anyway.

Gabe's bed is covered in goldfish. Live goldish.

They're in plastic baggies, at least.

"Do I even want to know?" Castiel mutters, dropping a pile of books onto his bedside table.

Gabe turns toward him and frowns, "How can you already be studying? We haven't even gone through Orientation!"

"One: some classes have summer reading." Castiel pulls himself onto the bed, leaning against the adjacent wall and sitting cross-legged. "Two: some people just like to read for, you know, fun?"

"So you're a badass nerd." Gabe declares, picking up one of the baggies to see if the goldfish is still kicking. When it kicks its little tailfin, he places it back down on the bed. "I'm sure you're wondering why I have so many tiny aquatic friends gathered here today. This is the most epic masterpiece I've envisioned and, if I may be so bold, I think it's going to go swimmingly."

If there's one thing that Castiel hates, it's puns. They're never 'punny' and they're never clever. Wit is something suited for the Victorian age, not the twenty-first century.

"I will pretend I didn't hear that." Castiel reaches for one of his books before Gabe sweeps in and places his hand on top of the pile.

Castiel thinks he's about to be punished for his sass but then Gabe reminds him, "Dinner!"

The Simcoe cafeteria is not for the faint of heart. They are so many choices it boggles Castiel's mind. Food has never been a thing that he's overcomplicated. Since his parents were always working, he relied on honey and peanut butter sandwiches to survive throughout his adolescence.

This, well, this was a bit too much for Castiel to handle. Gabe, on the other hand, knows exactly what he wants and heads over to the salad bar with determination. He smacks his lips as he piles a container high with romaine lettuce and tons of garnishes that basically nix the nutritional value altogether. "I just love the fact that I get to make it. What are you going to get?"

If Castiel's brow wasn't sweating before, it is now. "Uh… um…. Uh…"

"Dude." Gabe claps his hand down on Castiel's shoulder. "Don't think. Follow your stomach."

This seems like an utterly obvious piece of advice but Castiel obeys and closes his eyes, focusing solely on his stomach. A slew of scents waft by his nostrils and he latches onto one that is particularly appetizing: a grilled cheese sandwich.

Sure, it isn't far from his sandwich comfort zone, but it's a start. He'll branch out someday but today is not that day. Castiel needs comfort food. He heads over to 'the grille' counter and orders one for himself with pickles on it. It may sound weird but Castiel swears by it.

Once it's plated for him, Castiel rejoins Gabe and they go through the checkout. Castiel passes the cashier his meal card and even manages to smile at the woman before he follows Gabe to a table.

"Nice choice, man." Gabe nods approvingly before stabbing a radish with his plastic fork.

Castiel takes a bite of his sandwich and answers, mouth full, "I know."

After dinner, Gabe heads off to the frat party without bugging Castiel too much about it (although he did ask for help getting the goldfish into a cab which begs the question of how he got the bags of fish up to their dorm room in the first place).

Castiel is huddled over an anatomy textbook when his cell phone rings. He marks his place reluctantly and answers the phone:

"Hello?"

"Castiel! I'm in between surgeries! How was your flight?"

"Good. Thanks for calling, Mom."

"And how was your first day? How's the Campus? Just as amazing as the brochure showed? I sure hope so considering how much we're paying for you to go…"

"Mom!"

"Right. Sorry. No guilt tripping."

"I already offered to pay but you guys insisted. I'll pay you back someday. I promise."

"Oh, hush. Now tell me everything. Well, everything you can tell me in three minutes."

"What's your next surgery?"

"Castiel…" His mother warns.

"What?"

"You're changing the subject. Tell me about school."

"The campus is beautiful, my dorm is just what I wanted, and there's a library that could take me years to navigate."

"Sounds like you're in heaven," His mother replies.

"Something like that…" Castiel murmurs.

"You sound disappointed. Don't try to lie to your mother, now."

"It's great. Everything's great."

"Castiel!"

"Okay, okay, um… I'm just not… y'know, good with change."

"You need change or you'll never blossom."

Castiel groans. "Please don't say blossom, Mom. I'm not a daisy."

"You're my special little flower and you always have been. Don't try to take that away from me after eighteen years."

"Fine…"

"Look, Castiel, I understand it can be overwhelming to move halfway across the country alone. It probably feels like you're in an entirely new universe. But you need to do this, at least once in your life. I did that when I traveled to London and guess what? I met your father there. If I didn't take a risk and do something that terrified me, you wouldn't be here."

Castiel makes a dubious face that he knows his mother cannot see. "Did you seriously just compare my university experience to my very existence?"

"You've always been so quick to catching onto things."

"Mom, I was trying to give you attitude."

"I know you were," His mother laughs. "Anyway, I'm about to scrub in but you're going to be okay. You're going to choose what you learn and you're going to meet people who have the same interests as you. Maybe you'll even make a few friends along the way."

"Doubtful."

"You've always been such a pessimist. Now, remember, we love you very much."

"I know, Mom. I love you, too."

"Your father will call you tomorrow. We set up an alternating schedule so you're going to get pretty tired of us soon."

"Never."

"Just take some big breaths, you know that's what I always do when I need to remain steady. You're a special person and people deserve to see that. Take a risk, Castiel, for your own sake."

His mother isn't afraid of him leaving the nest. In fact, it seems like she's pushing him out.

Castiel wakes up at exactly 7:20 AM every morning. He has since he can remember. It's become part of his internal clock and as usual his eyes spring open right on schedule.

He feels a bit groggy. He stayed up the night before reading through the kinesiology textbook but there's nothing he can do about his exhaustion now. He isn't a coffee or tea person so that's not the answer. It looks like he'll just have to suck it up and get out of bed, tired as Hell.

Gabe is snoring and he's got Sharpie drawn all over his face in obscene designs. The room reeks like booze and Castiel wonders how Gabe could have possibly gotten home considering he drove to the frat party.

Castiel tiptoes around his roommate and attempts to get dressed without waking him. The drawers creak tauntingly as he edges them open. He pulls out his favorite striped sweater and pulls it over his head. He selects a pair of comfortable jeans before slipping out the front door, toothbrush in hand.

The entire dorm is silent. The floorboards squeak under his feet and Castiel feels guilty as he moves down the hallway. He still can't wrap his head around the idea of a co-ed living arrangement, especially when he walks into the bathroom to see a girl with bright red hair wearing a onesie, plucking her eyebrows in front of the mirror.

Castiel starts to panic. He doesn't converse well, especially with those of the opposite sex. It's always awkward, no matter what. Maybe he should just back away and pretend he never came in. He slowly begins to step backward.

"Welcome to our shared space!" The stranger greets, turning to face Castiel. "My name is Anna and I'm kind of a morning person. It seems that you are, too. What's your name?"

Castiel's mouth is dry. "C-castiel."

"That's fucking rad, man." Anna flashes him her pearly whites. He's never seen teeth so shockingly white before. "Seriously, my name is so boring, so every time I hear a cool one, I consider changing mine to something like…. Leo or something."

Anna is a motor mouth and keen one, at that. Castiel feels himself growing anxious just from being within her vicinity. She cocks her head to the side, studying him, and her crimson hair cascades down in front of her left shoulder. "You're a quiet one. I like that. Well, Castiel I'll leave you to your… well, whatever boys do in the morning. I'm sure I'll see you at Orientation."

Castiel doesn't bother to splutter out that he has no intention of going to the event. Anna is already out the door, anyway. Castiel hopes he can shower without being interrupted by another over-eager freshman. He cannot fathom the idea of being so enthusiastic all the time.

It must be exhausting.

Gabe sleeps until two in the afternoon. Castiel wonders if that's some sort of record. Gabe is happy to report that the prank went 'swimmingly', just as he predicted. Castiel requests that he keep the details of the event to himself.

Gabe drags Castiel to an early dinner before Gabe starts to get ready for Orientation, assuming that Castiel is doing the same.

Buzzing with excitement, the blond stands near the door. "Ready to head out, man?"

Castiel is camped out in his bed, all snuggly under his covers with another textbook. He mutters, "I'm not going."

Gabe deadpans before charging toward Castiel's bed. Castiel freezes. Gabe launches himself onto the end of Castiel's bed and throws aside the comforter. He latches on to Castiel's ankles with a firm grip. "We're both going to Orientation. You can't just hide in here forever. I won't allow it. I will not have a lame roommate."

Lame. The name-calling has begun, just as Castiel anticipated. "I don't care if I'm lame. I'm not going. You can't make me."

Castiel claws at the walls but Gabe still manages to drag him right off the bed. Gabe narrows his eyes, determined. "I'm doing this for your own good, Castiel. Stop fighting the inevitable."

"YOU'RE INSANE!" Castiel cries out, thrashing against Gabe's hold on his ankles.

Gabe grins brightly, "That's what they tell me!"

Castiel still doesn't want to go to Orientation but he knows his roommate will never stop torturing him. The idea of hundreds of people gathered in one (probably small) space makes him sick to his stomach. He can already feel a headache coming on but there is no point in fighting Gabe any longer.

Plus, maybe this is the exact type of risk that his Mom was urging him to make.

Castiel stops twisting in Gabe's grip, "Fine. But if I don't like it, I'm coming home."

"Awwwwww." Gabe coos, letting go of Castiel's ankles. "You called it home."

"I think I hate you." Castiel declares, which only makes Gabe grin wider. "And I'm not a very hateful person."

It's just as bad as Castiel expects. The event is held in one of the courtyards there are wide-eyed freshmen wandering everywhere. Castiel sticks to Gabe like glue and Gabe doesn't seem to mind one bit, even throwing an arm around Castiel's shoulders at one point.

There are a few boring speeches at the beginning but soon enough the formal part of the event is over. The students encouraged to mingle, make new friends, and try to find at least one person with a similar interest (one of the stupid social suggestions the second speaker made). Gabe is on the hunt for someone who adores strawberry shortcake as much as he does, so Castiel just wanders disdainfully behind him.

Clusters of students are gathered, buzzing with a chatter that makes Castiel want to escape back to the safety of his room. Unfortunately, Gabe makes a point of checking in on his roommate every few steps. Gabe greets people along the way that he's clearly already made friends with. Some students even congratulate him on the success of the prank. It makes Castiel embarrassed by association but Gabe is oozing with pride over it.

Gabe is talking to a spritely girl with short, black hair when Castiel feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns and is faced with the Hulk from the library incident the day before.

"Sorry. I can't help but approach a familiar face." The guy stammers, a dopey smile on his lips. "I think I might have freaked you out yesterday… um, my name's Sam."

Sam, Castiel repeats in his head. It suits him somehow. Castiel is already tired of introductions but he knows it's just another part of college he'll have to get used to. He tries to play it cool, "Castiel."

"Like the angel." Sam blurts out before covering his mouth as if he's said something inappropriate.

There are few people who recognize what Castiel is named after. His respect for the guy increases slightly. "That's right."

Sam relaxes, letting out a breath of air. He rocks back on his heels and shares, "So, I guess we're supposed to find something in common, right? Do you… like perogies?"

"I'm never been a big food person." Castiel shrugs apathetically.

He hates everything about small talk; particularly the way people talk themselves in circles, discussing mundane things until they feel like they're important. The weather, gas prices, and the latest pop culture scandal are all topics that Castiel refuses to waste his breath on.

Sam is amused by his answer, "Oh, really? How do you get your nutrients then? Are you some sort of alien who pulls it from the oxygen in the air?"

Castiel's eyes widen at the suggestion. "Not exactly my process but I can't reveal my extraterrestrial secrets to just anyone…"

"I'm not just anyone." Sam's eyes practically dazzle.

The men burst out laughing after a moment of intense eye contact. Gabe saunters over to them, "What did I miss?"

"N-nothing." Castiel chokes out as he eyes Sam. "I just think we found our thing in common, Sam and I."

"Oh! Awesome!" Gabe claps his hand down on Castiel's shoulder. "What is it?"

"If we tell you, we'd have to kill you." Sam explains and Gabe responds with a blank look.

"Well, looks like you two are a good pair." Gabe evaluates, looking between Sam and Castiel. "I have a feeling I'll find the two of you reading textbooks in silence very soon."

"I prefer fiction to non-fiction but I guess I could make an exception." Sam shrugs, a smile appearing on his lips. Castiel gives him a questioning look. Sam notices it and explains, "I'm an English major."

"Cool." Castiel always held the upmost respect for people who could create their own worlds. He had never been good at creating them himself.

"Well, Sam, you're welcome at our place whenever yah want." Gabe shares, sounding like a supportive dad. "Our dorm is in Simcoe, actually. Are you living in a dorm?"

"Actually, my brother has a place right off campus. I'm kind of crashing there at the moment." Sam shares. "An apartment."

Castiel envies Sam's link to his life before coming to University. It's not as if Castiel had a best friend he could convince to join him across the country but a little bit of familiarity in a new place would be nice.

A ringtone sounds out and Sam scrambles to reach into his pocket. "Speak of the devil," he mutters looking down at the call display. "He's a bit overprotective sometimes… I, uh, should take this. Maybe I'll see you guys around later? Hopefully we'll have some classes together, Castiel!"

As Sam wanders away, pressing the phone to his ear, Gabe puts one hand down on Castiel's shoulder and shakes Castiel playfully. "You found a friend! A real friend! That's awesome, man!"

A friend. Could Castiel call Sam his friend after one brief, albeit engaging, conversation? Castiel wasn't sure what Gabe's definition of the title was but it seemed a little hasty to use after only talking once. Castiel's head reels and he chastises himself for overanalyzing every single moment of his life. The first tendrils of a headache reach out and he starts to feel claustrophobic.

"All right!" Castiel declares, digging his heels in so Gabe cannot maneuver him any longer. "I'm tired of this. I made a connection and now I'm done."

Gabe doesn't bother to stop Castiel as he stalks back toward Simcoe.

Castiel meant to go home, but he's forced to take a detour when he passes by the library again. The knowledge within its walls reaches out to him and he simply cannot ignore it.

He trots up the steps two-by-two and slips through the door when someone holds it open for him. He forgets to mutter a 'thank you' but can't be bothered to go back and issue it. Castiel stands in the lobby and turns around slowly in circles to discover which wing will inspire him today.

Castiel then remembers the skylight. He does not care what sort of information is kept there; he just wants to know what it feels like to lose himself within the natural light. He begins to wander, too anxious to ask for directions, per usual. Castiel has no idea if he's going in the right way but knows that the sector is in the left side of the colossal building.

Castiel notices an open doorway letting in a few rays of light that aren't manmade. He escapes the fluorescence by walking hurriedly through the door and emerging into the room of glass. His breath is swept away when he looks up to where the ceiling should be but instead sees blue sky.

He loses himself in the towering stacks, a wealth of knowledge surrounding him in every direction. Castiel imagines this is the closest he will ever be to heaven. He has never been religious. His parents raised him on science alone but encouraged him to learn about religion on his own time. He never chose to join any religious cult. While he found the loopholes much too gaping, the stories and morals were intriguing.

The plethora of information is overwhelming. Castiel is in search for the perfect read, the perfect truth to drink in. He starts with an entire stack of books but as he wanders the selections dwindle slowly. He does not consciously make a decision but he soon finds himself sitting at a desk right next to a window. He stares through the glass and watches people wandering this way and that. They're bustling about as he settles. He adores that contrast: he sits in a perfect peace while they rush in a frenzy next destination.

Castiel cracks the book open and breaks the spine. He realizes he is the first to peruse the book, which makes him even more excited to read it. Something about having information stored in his mind that others don't thrills Castiel. Maybe he has become a little too comfortable with being called a know-it-all…

He pours over the book, engulfing facts about the wars during the 1600s. If there's one thing that Castiel loves to learn about most it is history. He enjoys discovering what happened before, although it is the most difficult information to retain. It all starts to blur together after a while. Who married whom? Was she his wife or his sister? How many people died in that ridiculously named war? It all becomes more complicated and convoluted as he reads each new book.

When Castiel looks up from his book again he realizes the blue sky has disappeared. Somewhere between chapters one and seventeen the afternoon has slipped away. The natural light is gone now and fluorescent lights are appearing above him, hidden between the sheets of glass that make up the ceiling.

Slightly disoriented, Castiel fishes inside his pocket for his phone, but all he feels is material, He must have dropped it when Gabe dragged him to Orientation. He isn't hungry yet but he knows if he is not back for dinner Gabe might panic and organize a search party.

Castiel gathers his things and hugs the textbook to his chest, looking around for a clock. Not only are there no clocks, there are no other students around. Castiel makes his way slowly through the stacks but still does not come across a clock. Growing anxious, he opts to head toward the front door instead.

In his rush to leave he blows past the sensors hastily and an alarm begins to sound. Castiel looks down at his arms and realizes he is still clutching the book. He wonders if something like this will go on his permanent record. Everyone in the lobby looks at him accusingly (at least he perceives it that way).

The librarian rolls her eyes and gestures for someone to check it out. Castiel's palms are sweaty and he feels someone approaching from behind. His stomach is churning when the stranger puts their hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, uh, do you want to check that out?"

Castiel turns around slowly, hearing a low, gravelly voice posing him a question. But all he can see is a pair of lips moving. Castiel knows he is in a shock that was induced by pure mortification. He can't even make eye contact with the guy.

"Um, s-sorry?" Castiel stammers, blood thundering in his ears so loudly he can barely hear his own words.

"Looked like you were in a hurry." The voice continues. Castiel cannot believe how unassuming it is, considering Castiel essentially tried to commit grand theft literature. "Let's just chalk it up to an honest mistake. Want to check it out?"

'Check it out' doesn't quite compute in Castiel's mind and he ends up looking up at the stranger. Big fucking mistake. The guy's face is drowning in freckles and his eyes are shockingly green. His eyes seem familiar even if the rest of him doesn't. The stranger's hair is distractingly disheveled and, to make matters worse, he fills the silence between them by grabbing a fistful of it and pushing it to the side. Castiel guesses Green Eyes never wakes up worrying about a single thing. He is the type of guy who has been given everything in life, but not just because of his good looks. He's probably earned it in some way or another.

"You okay, Bud?" Green Eyes asks. "You seem a little disoriented. Are you new to campus?"

Castiel chuckles dryly – where the Hell did that come from? – before catching himself and muttering, "Something like that."

Green Eyes smirks, "Vague. Mysterious. You intrigue me…"

It takes Castiel far too long to realize Green Eyes is fishing for his name. Instead of giving it to him, Castiel holds out the book as a peace offering, "I'm sorry. Here you go, I, uh, need to go food now."

"Is 'food' a verb now?" Green Eyes is grinning now. "I have to get caught up with all the cool, new slang."

Castiel doesn't understand why Green Eyes is still talking to him. He should have handed off the book and been done with it but Green Eyes keeps trapping him in conversation. Castiel makes a rash decision to break free from the interaction. He shoves the textbook into Green Eyes' hands and flees out the front door.

In a flurry of Shakespearian cursing and self-deprecation Castiel realizes something grave that makes him stop in his tracks. The only place on campus where he feels comfortable has been tarnished by a ridiculous mistake.

He takes fistfuls of his own air and groans silently. He even manages to kick an empty plastic bottle in his frustration.

"God damn his freckles." Castiel huffs under his breath. "And God damn those green eyes."

Castiel just wishes he never looked up in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

It's the first day of classes. Castiel should be excited. _Why isn't he excited?_

Well, a part of him is excited. Most of him is terrified. As much as he's ready to learn, he's not so sure about the 'whole interacting with other students' thing. At least it's not in a purely social environment like the Orientation, it's a contrived and specific type of socialization.

Castiel can handle academic conversation. He's got his books, his class schedule printed out and laminated; he even bought a new computer though he prefers taking notes on paper.

He should be ready. He _is _ready.

Gabe is still in bed, mumbling something about the 'Candy Mountains' and a man named Charlie when Castiel leaves for his first class. He arranged his schedule so all his lectures are earlier in the day. He wants to be surrounded by people are as interested in learning as he is. He hopes the lazy, 'sleep-in' students will steer clear of his morning courses and possible group projects. Plus, he figures the earlier he wakes up to absorb information, the more time he will have to retain it the rest of the day.

Though his first class does not start until 8:30 AM, Castiel leaves Simcoe at 7:34 AM to choose the seat that he wants. _The early bird gets the worm, right? _But he overestimates the time it takes to get across campus and finds the door to the lecture hall still locked. He shudders. The last thing Castiel wants is a lazy or tardy professor.

He figures he needs to find a way to waste the time. The library _definitely _isn't an option so with a sigh Castiel decides to go on a mission of caffeine. He doesn't need any coffee, nor does he approve of it (in his opinion it's a crutch), but it's better than sitting alone in the hallway. It doesn't take long to locate a coffee shop, tucked in between the science and the English buildings.

Castiel walks through the door and is bombarded by the smell of coffee grounds and vanilla syrup. There isn't much of a line so it only takes him a few minutes to get to the front. It's at the counter that he instantly regrets his coffee decision.

"Fancy meeting you here!" Anna greets him cheerfully. Castiel wishes it were appropriate to groan in someone's face. "I feel like this is a sign. First the bathroom and now my workplace? The universe intends for us to be friends."

Castiel doesn't believe in fate or destiny. He believes in concrete evidence shown through calculation, trial and error, and empirical data. This meeting is mere happenstance and yet Anna is declaring it a sign from someone up above. The audacity of the suggestion boggles Castiel's mind.

"Um, can I get a black coffee, please?" Castiel requests blunty.

Anna looks bewildered momentarily before a smile breaks across her lips. "Okay, Castiel, I get it. You're all business."

Finally someone understands how he operates. He appreciates her ability to read him so well. She rings in his order and he hands her his meal card. She swipes it before handing it back to him.

Anna turns away to prepare his coffee before placing it down on the counter separating them. "You know, I think you could afford to let down your guard every once in a while. You never know what you might miss because of it."

Without another word, Castiel snatches up his coffee and escapes Anna's honesty.

His first few classes fly by in a blurry combination of introductory PowerPoints and ridiculous YouTube videos to illustrate mundane points. He's frustrated by the end of the day but he's got a whole new set of classes tomorrow. First weeks are always sort of lame, anyway.

Nonetheless, Castiel is still disappointed by the time he flops down on his bed that afternoon. He's never been a flopper but he's too preoccupied with his disappointment to be respectful of his bed frame.

Gabe wanders into the room and is shocked to find Castiel staring up at the ceiling instead of in a book. "Did you get body snatched? 'Cause you are seriously weirding me out right now."

Castiel wants to tune his roommate out but Castiel also knows Gabe won't stop pestering him until he gets some answers. "Still me here. I'm just tired. Long day."

Castiel's short answers alert Gabe that something's up. Castiel isn't just being his reserved and closed self; he's emanating something Gabe might even describe as grieving. If Castiel starts wearing all black Gabe's suspicions will be confirmed but Gabe needs a more immediate answer than that.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Gabe prompts gently. He has to make a conscious effort to sound genuine after receiving a critique back in high school that most of his attempts to comfort came across as sarcastic or mocking. "I'm your roommate."

"Just because we share a room doesn't mean my shit is your shit." Castiel snaps harsher than he means to.

Gabe doesn't flinch but he knows better than to keep pushing. He gets on his feet and heads toward the door, "I'll give you some space. I just want you to know I don't feel obligated to be your friend, Castiel. I _want _to be your friend. I'm going to be keep trying until you stop fighting it."

Castiel winces and expects the door to slam shut upon Gabe's exit but all he hears is a soft click of the lock. His head hurts. He doesn't understand why people are reaching out to him.

He's here to learn. That's it.

Castiel mopes to class the next morning. He doesn't get up early to detour to the coffee shop because he's afraid of running into Anna again. He shows up to class only ten minutes before it's scheduled to begin and surveys the crowd. There are only two empty seats left.

He slips into one of vacant chairs. He doesn't recognize anybody in the class. But then just as the professor clears his throat to start talking a familiar face stumbles into the classroom muttering apologies.

_It's a bird. It's a plane. Nope, it's just a stumbly, knock-knees ManBoy named Sam._

Castiel notices the anxiety on Sam's face and begrudgingly motions toward the empty seat next to him. If there's anyone he doesn't mind on campus, it's Sam.

Castiel notices the anxiety on Sam's face and motions begrudgingly toward the empty seat next to him. If there's anyone he doesn't mind on campus, it's Sam. A relieved smile stretches across Sam's face when he sees the invitation. He bounds up the stairs like a happy puppy and collapses into the seat next to Castiel.

"God, you're a life saver." Sam whispers, sounding breathless "I seriously owe you, man. A round on me at Mahoney's tonight."

But before Castiel can object the professor launches into the introductory lecture.

"My brain feels numb. Does your brain feel numb?"

The lecture was actually an informing one, much to Castiel's surprise. He walks out of the classroom, Sam trailing behind, with a hopeful air about him. Maybe this university thing wasn't a _complete_ waste of time.

Sam is a bit overwhelmed but Castiel has never been one for comforting others. "I think that might be my favorite class."

"Are you insane?" Sam accuses, running his hands through his long locks. He looks stressed enough to pull clumps of it out. "It's the first day and we already have fifty pages of reading assigned… for Friday!"

Fifty pages is nothing to Castiel but he ought to be a little sensitive to Sam's view of things.[MK6] "Yah, I guess that's a lot, huh?"

Sam smirks, eyeing Castiel in an accusing manner. "That's probably nothing to you. Right?"

Castiel's cheeks burn. He knows he's been caught in a lie. There's nothing worse than people calling him out for trying to be sympathetic to their academic challenges. "Uh, well, it's half of a hundred, so…"

Sam bumps his shoulder against Castiel's. "You know, you don't have to hide the fact that nothing gets your panties in a twist quite like learning. I think it's brilliant. I wish I were as passionate as you about reading. For me, it's about interpreting what I already know through my writing. But I only know so much about the world. My challenge is expanding it. That's what you _lust_ after."

"I don't know if I would use the word 'lust'." Castiel murmurs squeamishly.

Words have always been a force that Castiel couldn't wrap his mind around. The placement of a word could make the difference in one's interpretation of an entire situation. It's mind-boggling. No matter how hard Castiel tries master it, it confounds him. He's sure that Sam doesn't have the same struggle.

"Well, I'm off here." Sam announces, coming to a halt in front of a building that Castiel isn't familiar with. "I'm meeting my brother for lunch. He's always checking in on me, demanding a status update. I think maybe he's afraid that I don't want to be here or something…"

"Do you?" Castiel blurts without thinking.

Sam rocks back and forth on his heels, something that Castiel recognizes as his thinking stance. He must need movement to process things. In contrast Castiel requires complete silence and stillness.

"I think so." Sam finally produces a response he still seems tentative about. "At first I thought the idea of going to university for something I already felt like I could do was a waste of time. My brother reminded me of how many authors studied before they even wrote their first novels. I guess it's something I just have to condition myself with. It's a good way for me to learn discipline and practice focus."

Castiel nods, "There's lots of time to get your work out there. It's good to learn the techniques before breaking the rules."

Sam's brows knot together in confusion and Castiel clarifies, "You take in the skills and 'proper procedure' before throwing it all away and becoming your own artist. That's how you set yourself apart from the rest."

It makes perfect sense in Castiel's mind because he can still remember the page and paragraph he took the advice from. While he never intends to be an artist it seems to be pertinent advice to keep. Finally he's put it to use. Based on the inspired look on Sam's face, it's been shared at the right time.

"I'll call you for your wisdom every time I have an off day." Sam responds, mussing Castiel's hair before trotting off toward the front doors of the building. "Thanks Castiel! See yah later!"

Because of Sam's brash exit people are looking Castiel's way. He wishes he could turn invisible. It's always been an appealing power to him.

And yet, he can't help but smile. He's _chosen _to become Sam's friend (if that's what they are, Castiel's never been good at defining stages of relationships). It's sort of freeing.

Not only has he found someone who appreciates literature, he's also found somebody who values his fervor for education as well. His hunger is insatiable and the university is the perfect environment to quell it (or deafen it slightly).

Maybe being social isn't entirely painful.

"WE ARE HAVING A PILLOW FIGHT!"

Gabe's announcement upon Castiel walking into their dorm makes Castiel turn on his heel and walk back out into the hallway. Gabe bounds after him and drags him back into their room while Castiel claws at the doorframe.

"We are not!" Castiel objects. "I already told you this isn't going to be an eternal sleepover!"

Gabe relinquishes his hold and Castiel tumbles toward his bed, flailing his arms to catch himself. Castiel turns himself over and glares in Gabe's direction.

"Okay." Gabe perches on the edge of his own bed. "Then at least tell me how your second day went."

"Better than the first." Castiel offers, loathing the fact Gabe cannot handle silence. "You're never going to stop pestering me, are you?"

Gabe shrugs, "Maybe when you stop looking like you're scared of everything. I have to make sure my roommate isn't about to go Dexter on me."

"The last thing I am is a serial killer." Castiel promises the blond. He fishes in his bedside table drawer for the list of assignments he has to complete for his classes. It's growing steadily and Castiel can't help but be excited by that. "Although I do have some homicidal thoughts every once in a while when I'm behind someone who walks too slowly."

"Me, too!" Gabe agrees enthusiastically, snatching away the list from Castiel's grasp.

Castiel pounces for it and somehow manages to get it slips the notebook under his pillow and sits on it. He hopes Gabe doesn't bother to make another swipe for it.

"You're no fun." Gabe grumbles, returning to his side of the room. He climbs onto his bed and settles in a cross-legged position. "Do you even know what fun means?"

"_Fun _is one of those unique words that's definition changes with every individual." Castiel retorts in a tone that's sure to frustrate Gabe. Before his roommates can object, Castiel continues, "I like to read. That's what I think is _fun. _You like to mess around and annoy people. That's what you think is _fun."_

A hurt look crosses Gabe's face and Castiel regrets his words. Gabe gets off his bed and heads to the door. "I guess I'll leave you to your _fun _then. I'm sorry for trying to reach out to you. I guess it's a waste of time."

But Castiel doesn't have time to feel guilty because his phone rings. Assuming it's one of his parents checking in, Castiel answers:

"Hey Mom or Dad. How are you?"

"Um, is that how you always answer the phone?"

Castiel's brow furrows and he begins to panic. _Who has his cell phone number aside from his parents? _"Um, I'm sorry. Who's calling?"

"Oh! Sorry, man. I probably should have mentioned. It's Sam!"

"How did you get my number and aren't you supposed to be at lunch with your brother?"

"You sure like to ask questions. Anyway, I found it off the class list that the professor sent out. As for lunch, we Winchesters are quick eaters. In fact, we don't really eat, we devour."

"Thank you for that disgusting imagery."

"You're welcome. Now, I forgot something!"

"Do you need the page numbers for the reading?"

"You're hilarious. No! I promised you a drink at Mahoney's! Don't think you're going to get out of this. I owe you."

Castiel had been hoping that Sam might just forget about the invitation, but Castiel doesn't have the heart to mention this to Sam. "Um, well, I…"

"I'll meet you at eight, okay? Do you know where the bar is?"

"We're not even legal..."

"They don't I.D. Stop making excuses and promise you'll meet me."

Castiel takes a deep breath and contemplates his options. He can hang up now, drop out of all his class with Sam, and avoid the ManBoy for the rest of the semester… or he can suck it up and go out for a drink with his new friend. He knows the choice a _normal _freshman would make but he's not exactly a typical eighteen year old.

With a groan, he responds. "Fine. But I'm only drinking Gingerale."

"We'll see about that."

Before Castiel can protest, Sam ends the call.

Castiel hangs his head, "What the _Hell _am I getting myself into?"

Castiel shows up fifteen minutes early. Mahoney'sseems to be _the_ place to be on campus, even on a Thursday.

Although Castiel has nothing to compare it to, he's overwhelmed by how busy the bar is. To make matters worse the library is around the corner, calling out for Castiel to seek refuge in it.

"I hate this. I hate this. I hate this."

He's been chanting the three words since Sam hung up on him. Castiel is pacing back and forth manically in front of Mahoney's. He swears he heard a passerby ask if Castiel was on drugs. Maybe this is why people do drugs, to make irrational decisions seem a bit more rational.

Sam arrives five minutes early, shocking Castiel. Sam waves at him as he approaches and Castiel returns the gesture with a nervous nod of recognition. "You came!"

Sam's enthusiasm calms Castiel slightly. "Y-yeah, I'm here."

"Well, I'm glad. Want to head in?"

Castiel's mouth is dry and his palms are sweaty. "I don't know. What if they can tell I'm underage? What if a telepathic bartender calls me out? At least you look twenty-one! I look like a freshman in high school."

"We both have baby faces." Sam counters. "But it doesn't matter. I'm not going to get you in trouble, okay?"

Something about Sam's honesty is refreshing and comforting. Castiel follows him toward the front door of the bar and holds his breath as they enter. He feels naked but nobody bothers to look away from their drinks and conversation.

"See?" Sam leans down toward Castiel discretely. "Just stay cool and we'll be fine. Now, let's go meet up with my brother. He grabbed a table for us."

Castiel nearly chokes on his own spit. "_Brother_?"

Castiel almost chokes on his own spit. "_Brother_?"

Sam chuckles, putting his hand on Castiel's lower back to stop Castiel from escaping. "He's totally harmless. You're going to be fine and plus, he's paying."

Castiel doesn't do strangers. He can barely handle making friends in class (Sam is a gift from above). Forcing Castiel into a social situation like this is enough to make his sanity dwindle.

"Sam," Castiel protests in a whimper. "I really can't. I'll see you later, okay?"

Of course, Sam isn't having it. He guides a flailing Castiel through the bar to a booth tucked away in a dark corner. Castiel sees the back of Sam's brother's head and Castiel wonders if he can make himself faint if he holds his breath long enough.

"Sam…" Castiel objects one last time before they're standing before Sam's brother.

_Sam's brother._

But the person in front of Castiel isn't a stranger. He _should _be a stranger but by some cruel twist of fate (which Castiel still doesn't believe in) he finds himself staring at the last person he ever wants to see again in the history of _ever: _Green Eyes.

"Well, hey there Book Thief!" Sam's brother- who- is –also-Green-Eyes [MK9] greets with a warm chuckle that liquefies Castiel's insides. "Sam, did you know your new friend is a criminal?"

"So, you two know each other already! Perfect!" Sam grins widely before sliding himself into the cheap plastic upholstered bar booth. The sound the movement makes causes Castiel to internally cringe. "Now I want to hear this story."

Green Eyes launches into an animated retelling of one of Castiel's most horrifying moments. Castiel blocks the explanation out, while staring blankly at the two brothers. Every so often Sam looks his way and laughs. Castiel feels his sanity slipping away.

"That's amazing," Sam concludes once Castiel tunes back into the conversation. Sam grins at Castiel and pats the seat next to him invitingly. "Well, are you going to join or gawk at us all afternoon?"

Castiel wishes he could give an honest answer. He lets his gaze fall to the floor before taking a seat next to Sam. He's thankful he hasn't been forced to sit next to Green Eyes.

"So," Green eyes drums his fingers on the table, catching Castiel's attention. "Are you going to properly introduce us, Sam? Or am I going to have to take initiative as usual?"

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother, "Castiel -_ Dean_." He pauses. "_Dean – _Castiel."

_Dean. _"Your name means law in Hebrew." Castiel blurts out. _It also means valley, or the occupational title of a church official or an alternative title for a head of a school._

Castiel would have preferred to remain on a no-name basis with Sam's brother. He senses the color draining from his face slowly, feeling as if he might pass out if he doesn't escape soon. But escaping means getting away from Sam. Considering how big Sam's biceps are, Castiel isn't going to be making his getaway anytime soon.

"Does it?" Dean repeats. He doesn't sound weirded out as people usually do when Castiel spews random facts. He sounds amused instead. "I guess I'm not one of those people who Googles their own names, so thanks for that."

"Castiel is a bit of a search engine." Sam shares, bumping his shoulder against Castiel's. "I bet if you asked him anything, he'd have some sort of answer."

Castiel hates being the center of attention. He tugs on the ends of his sleeves to distract himself from how anxious and suffocated he feels. He attempts to smile but he predicts it looks nothing short of maniacal because of its unnaturalness. He gives up and lets his face relax.

"Um, so, uh, _Dean."_ The name feels bizarre and almost taboo on Castiel's tongue. "What do you…uh, do?"

Not the most eloquent segue but at least it takes the spotlight off of Castiel. Dean appears to be mulling the question over when Sam blurts, "Dean goes to school here, too. For physiotherapy. He works at the library so he doesn't have to live on campus. I mean, so that he can pay rent for his own place."

Dean rolls his eyes at his brother. "I probably could have answered the question myself, but thanks, Sammy." He turns his gaze back to Castiel, causing Castiel to flinch from Dean's awareness. "But yeah, I guess that's my story. Well, there's a lot more to me than what I'm studying but it's what matters to me most right now. Can't say the same about Sammy, here…"

It's Sam's turn to roll his eyes at his brother. "Don't start something with me, Dean. I want to be here, I swear."

"Mhmmmm." Dean drawls, clearly dubious of his younger brother's words.

Castiel watches as Dean picks up the pint glass and gulps down the beer, imagining the bitter taste drifting over Dean's taste buds. Dean's Adam's apple bobs as the liquid continues its journey toward his stomach. Sam is making some sort of petty attempt at a protest but neither Dean nor Castiel are paying much attention. Dean swipes his sleeve lazily across his lips, clearing away the foam the beer left behind.

Castiel's mouth is dry when someone clears their throat. Reality snaps back into focus for Castiel and he sees a fourth person has joined them. Hovering at the end of the table is a very unimpressed-looking Gabe.

"I don't really understand you, Castiel." Gabe pouts. "I mean, God, what do I have to do? You're in one class with this moose and you let him take you out for beers?"

Sam glares at Gabe. "I am NOT a moose!" Dean just looks amused.

Castiel has never hated anyone as much as he hates Gabe right now. His cheeks are burning an obviously embarrassed shade of scarlet. He can feel his skin boiling while he searches for the right words to send his roommate away.

"I hope you know I'm very insulted." Gabe explains in a tone that Castiel can't determine as genuinely hurt or overdramatic. "It doesn't help that Mr. Smug over here can't wipe that ridiculous smirk off his face."

A look of recognition crosses Dean's face as he realizes he's being targeted. "Who the Hell do you think you are?" Dean accuses gruffly and Castiel wishes he were never born.

It seems to Castiel that a full-on bar brawl is about to go down between the Winchester brothers and his roommate if Castiel doesn't take some action. He stalks out of the bar with his hand firmly clamped against Gabe's arm, dragging his roommate away from Dean and Sam.

Just before they exit Castiel calls out, "I'M SORRY!"

Thankfully he turns quick enough so he doesn't see Sam and Dean's reactions. Gabe is laughing his ass off as he trails behind Castiel. Castiel doesn't let go of Gabe until they make it back to their dorm room.

Castiel releases Gabe and feels a wave of pure rage throttle him completely. He usually doesn't allow himself get to such extremes but the whole situation has put him over the edge. He can't look in Gabe's direction because Castiel knows he'll just want to hurt his roommate.

But then he realizes the easiest way he can torture his roommate: with _silence._

Gabe is somewhere between chortling and acting out the mortifying interaction when Castiel takes three deep breaths:

One. In: _I hate Gabe. Why did he have to do that? I want to rip his face off. Can I be charged for that? God, he embarrassed me so much. How can a sane human do that? PROBABLY BECAUSE HE ISN'T SANE. He's like a hyena. He_ is_ a hyena. _

Out: _Carbon Dioxide. _

Two. In: _He wants to be my friend. How can a friend mortify someone in front of people who they clearly think highly of? How can a friend ruin things so easily?_

Out: _Carbon Dioxide._

Three. In: _He's not my friend. He's just a nosy roommate. Tune him out._

Out: _Carbon Dioxide._

With that, Castiel pulls his desk drawer open and takes out a textbook, the one he needs to read fifty pages of before his next class with Sam.

Castiel can sense Gabe is protesting this decision but Castiel doesn't let it bother him. Castiel, instead, sits on his bed and retreats to the place where he feels safest.

_Learning._

Sam continues to text Castiel. (Sixteen times to be exact.)

Castiel ignores them.

Gabe tries to talk to Castiel. (Forty-three times to be exact.)

Castiel ignores him.

Anna smiles at Castiel in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. (Just once.)

Castiel ignores her.

Castiel learns to ignore everything but his lectures and the words he reads in his textbooks. Everything else turns into periphery hustle and bustle. It doesn't take much effort to blur it all out.

There is no point in making friends. It's all just a waste of energy he could be putting toward writing, researching, or studying. Even when his parents check in he keeps the interaction brief.

He sometimes stays after class to discuss theories and notions with his professors but it's never on a personal level. They sometimes ask questions about his personal life but he deflects them easily enough by raising another point or inquiring further about an assignment.

Castiel acknowledges he's a hermit but he's an educated hermit who lives in a dorm. He hears the speculative and judgmental whispers of his peers and even some strangers he passes but he always tunes it out. There's no need to retain such superfluous information.

Sam is always late to class so Castiel avoids sitting next to him easily by choosing a spot with no empty seats next. He also makes sure it's by the door so he can escape quickly when class ends. It works every time, so much that Castiel hopes Sam has finally gotten the hint.

Castiel has also developed the habit of reading and walking. His mother always berated him for doing it when he was younger and he respected the advice for a while. Now he employs the tactic so he can avoid social interaction even more. (It also makes him feel like a rebel).

Until he walks right into someone.

"Whoa, there."

Castiel realizes he should look up from his book. He considers walking on and pretending to be deaf but it's a little too politically incorrect for his taste. He closes the textbook slowly, his hands trembling.

"Did you know that some people consider reading to be a type of performance art?"

The question causes Castiel to look up much swifter than he intends. "Sorry?"

It takes a second for the person in front of Castiel to come into focus, what with blurring everything out for the last few weeks, but when they do, Castiel's breath hitches.

_Green Eyes._

Castiel instantly chastises himself for referring to Sam's brother by his nickname. _Dean. His name is Dean._

Dean smiles before glancing at the textbook in Castiel's now limp hand. "Must be a good read."

Castiel finds himself frustrated by how utterly forgiving Dean is.

"It is," Castiel mutters curtly before forcing himself to move forward, past Dean. "I have to get to…"

Castiel freezes when he feels Dean's hand on his arm. Castiel's blood quickly turns to ice and his jaw slackens as Dean spins him. Castiel finds himself facing Dean once again. This time, Dean looks concerned. _Like a concerned older brother. _"Are you okay, Castiel? Sammy's been worrying about you non-stop, y'know. I'm not usually the type of guy to stick my head into business that isn't mine but… well, are you? I mean, are you okay, that is."

Castiel can tell by Dean's stumbling he isn't lying about what type of _guy _he is. Dean is clearly out of his comfort zone and yet it's not as if anyone's forcing him to pose the questions. This realization doesn't calm Castiel's instinct to flee though.

"Fine," Castiel flinches. Dean notices this and removes his grip from Castiel's arm. "I'm _fine. _I just need to concentrate on my education. It was all just a misunderstanding."

Castiel drops his gaze toward the ground. He begins to count the cobblestones in Dean's silence. Castiel knows there's no point in trying to escape. Dean won't let it happen. He's too much like Sam.

"Look," Dean scuffs his heel on the ground. "I know doing something new can be pretty weird sometimes. I don't know much about you but I'm pretty good at reading people… I have a feeling that you probably like to do things on your own. I used to be the same way. But after a while everything just starts to get out of focus and all you're left with is your own reflection. It can get pretty lonely."

Castiel has heard enough.

He certainly doesn't want to hear any more.

"You're right," Castiel replies roughly, gritting his teeth. "You _don't _know me. I'm nothing like you. I told you already, I'm fine. Please tell your brother to stop calling and texting me. I'm not going to reply."

Castiel feels the bile surging up his esophagus as he charges away from Dean. He has no specific destination. He just needs to get away.

The textbook falls from his hand as he braces himself against the side of a brick building. The wall rips at his hands but the pain pales in comparison to the retching.

There's nothing left in his stomach when he brings his head back up. Dean is nowhere to be seen but everything is starkly clear. This is the type of vision Castiel has been avoiding for weeks and yet his confrontation with Dean has thrust it upon him.

Castiel spots the fallen book.

But instead of picking it back up, he kicks it into the gutter.

"You know, I think you look better with stubble, actually."

Castiel is in the bathroom when everything comes back into focus. Anna is smiling at him in his periphery. He doesn't bother to turn his head toward her; he doesn't ever waste his energy on _common courtesy._

He's looking at reflection.

At least he thinks he's looking at his reflection.

He sees a stranger. He can't help but loathe the cliché he's turned into. If he were to break the mirror with his hand he might even be nominated for an Oscar. It sickens him so much that he has to turn away.

Anna cocks her head to the side inquisitively but she doesn't pose a question. The tension in the air is enough to make Castiel want to cry out in fury but he digs his fingernails into the counter instead.

_Maybe Dean is right, _Castiel thinks. _Maybe I'm all I have left._

Castiel starts to laugh, shocking both he and Anna. He brings the heels of his hands up to his face and presses them against his eyes. "Since when is it okay to pilot your own personal tragedy?"

He doesn't expect Anna to answer. In fact, if Anna were sane, she'd vacate the premises as soon as possible. Castiel is in a nuclear state and the last thing he needs is to take down more victims with him.

"You really like to wallow in self-pity." Anna muses, tucking a lock of her wild red hair behind her pixie–like ears. She's like a ginger Tinkerbell. "I mean, you're practically sweating out self-involvement. You're really starting to stink this place up. Maybe I should report you."

Castiel lets his hands fall to his sides. He starts to pace slowly around the bathroom. "Shit. I really hate when other people are right."

Anna practically beams at him. "Well, honesty is my middle name."

"Is it?" Castiel pauses.

"No, you idiot," Anna hops herself up onto the bathroom counter, probably violating about ten different dorm rules. "My middle name is Lee. What kind of hippe-ass household do you think I was raised in?"

"You're talking to the wrong person." Castiel continues with his pacing. "Considering my name's Castiel."

"Your parents must really like pot." Anna smiles devilishly.

"They're both doctors," Castiel shares. "So."

"Doesn't mean they don't dip their hands into the medicinal stash every now and then." Anna swings her bare legs back and forth. "But anyway, back to you. What's with the quarter life crisis? I mean, _sure, _we all go through it but… it's like you need to torture yourself to take your next breath."

Castiel feels exposed. He scrubs his left hand along his chin and feels the raised hair beneath his fingertips. He's always clean-shaven. Maybe this is the first change he needs to make. It also doesn't hurt that Anna says it suits him.

"I don't know. I'm just used to be alone." Castiel explains of his predicament.

"I think this is _bad _case of Only Child Syndrome." Anna blurts out her diagnosis.

Castiel flinches and stops in his tracks. "Look, Anna, I know you're trying to help but I really don't need a therapy session. I've had plenty of those. My parents put me through every sort of counseling, 'talking it out', and hypnosis tactic possible. Every 'professional' has always left him with the same word: _Detached."_

Anna nods slowly. Castiel's mind is boggled by how easily and freely he's talking with a stranger. But this interaction doesn't seem to bother Anna, and Castiel assumes Anna is used to helping people in this way.

"You've always got your head in a book." Anna jumps back down to her feet. "Maybe it's time to move beyond the pages and learn by… well, _living."_

"This plan of yours involves interacting with other human beings. Doesn't it?" Castiel wonders, his voice dripping with dread.

"Am I… uh, interrupting?" Gabe enters the bathroom with one eyebrow raised.

As usual, Gabe has sickeningly perfect timing. Castiel was just starting to feel comfortable enough to heed Anna's advice. Castiel immediately bristles as Gabe sets down his toiletries bag on the counter.

"No." Anna and Castiel chorus together but their tones are starkly different.

While Anna's is spritely and unassuming, Castiel's is wrought with guilt and frustration. Gabe brushes his teeth in silence while Anna and Castiel exchange a look of agreement.

"I should go." Castiel mutters, snatching up his things from the counter. "Thanks, Anna."

Gabe doesn't even try to stop Castiel from leaving.

The next day, Castiel puts his bag down on the seat next to him. When Sam stumbles in late, Castiel waves to him and removes the bag from the seat. A look of disbelief crosses Sam's face but when Castiel beckons him, Sam trots up the stairs like a joyous Saint Bernard puppy.

"You know I still owe you a drink, right?" Sam whispers in Castiel's ear.

It's the best thing Castiel's heard in weeks.

Beer is disgusting.

And yet Castiel can't get enough of it.

Sam and Castiel are holed up in the back booth of Mahoney's while Sam urges Castiel to finish off the pint. Castiel's stomach is protesting in a way that reminds him that, in fact, he is poisoning his body. He ignores it and slugs down the last bit of the liquid. He slams the empty glass down on the table.

"God, I hate that." Castiel declares with a grimace.

He wants to fold in on himself but Sam lays down a paw on Castiel's shoulder and he feels better. "A man with a beard should have a beer in hand to match it." Sam shares with a giant grin.

Castiel squints at his own stubbly reflection in the empty pint glass. Anna is right, it does suit him in a contrast-y kind of way. He knows he's gone a bit one-to-sixty with the whole _living _thing but it does feel better than being alone.

Though things are still blurry… but that's probably just the beer.

Information is harder to access with alcohol in your veins. The details always get skewed. Castiel can usually produce any odd fact from his archive but now it's as if somebody's gone and played 52-Card Pickup with all his files. Without his facts, Castiel is nobody.

"Why do you want to be my friend, Sam?" Castiel wonders, resting his chin against his hand.

Sam chuckles deeply, the sound resonating in his chest. His shoulders bounce up and down with a shrug, "I don't know. Do I seriously have to give you criteria or justification? Can't we leave that for class?"

"_Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam." _Castiel whines, his head slipping from his hand so his chin slams against the table.

Pain sparks as Castiel clutches at his chin but its dulled by all the booze he's consumed. Sam is laughing his ass off but Castiel knows he shouldn't take it personally.

"Fine…" Castiel mutters in a mock-dejected tone.

"Okay, okay." Sam is still trying to calm himself down. He settles his hands down on the table. "I think I want to be your friend because you're… I don't know… you're different. You make the whole introvert thing seem pretty badass."

"It _is_ badass." Castiel slams down his hand on the table with purpose. "Finally somebody gets it. So what if I don't want to be social all the time? I'm social on MY terms. I get to choose _when_ and _where_ to engage with people."

"Plus, I like that you're a little pretentious." Sam admits and Castiel scowls back in response, his fire immediately doused. When Sam sees that he's upset Castiel, he blurts out, "NO. I mean that in the best way possible!"

"How could that word ever be used in 'the best way possible'?" Castiel grumbles, wishing suddenly that he had another beer in hand.

As if on cue, Dean is walking toward them with three pint glasses filled to the brim. Castiel knew he was arriving at some point. Plus, he was pleased to find that booze took the edge off of his anxiety.

"Hey, Green Eyes." Castiel drawls before realizing that the wrong name has passed through his lips.

By some miracle, Dean is too far away to have picked up on Castiel's mistake. Sam, on the other hand, is staring at Castiel with amusement dancing in his eyes. Castiel's cheeks burn as Dean puts the beers down on the table, some of the amber liquid sloshing over the side of the glasses.

"I see you took my advice." Dean is grinning at Castiel.

As much as he wants to Castiel can't look away.

"What advice?" Sam questions eagerly but both Castiel and Dean ignore him. Sam pouts and grabs a beer to slug back.

Castiel manages to smile back at Dean despite the fact that every muscle is screaming for him to keep his mouth shut. "I did."


End file.
